


the fall

by oisugasuga



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fae & Fairies, M/M, Unseelie Court
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:54:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23885560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oisugasuga/pseuds/oisugasuga
Summary: Sugawara Koushi never failed to stop the breath dead in Oikawa’s lungs.It wasn’t his beauty… though he was undeniably stunning in the way that destruction could be breathtaking. His voice was the distant cry of a train at midnight, calling out, lovely and haunting. His eyes were the glow of headlights down an empty interstate and they held the depths of everything humankind feared and wanted in the same moment… and his hair…It was much more than that, infinitely more. Words that had no language to communicate them in — a soundless noise on the bitter kiss of winter’s winds, a poem cut ragged and unreadable by rime, the most fleeting of fingertips down the knobs of a cold spine.Oikawa exhaled, damp and quiet. A thousand hungry, malicious eyes clung to his words as he spoke them… but Oikawa only looked at Suga."I wanted to see you."
Relationships: Oikawa Tooru/Sugawara Koushi
Comments: 12
Kudos: 56





	the fall

"You should not be here."

The words hissed from behind him were angry and hot-blooded but cold — like silver, black ice, the moon in the sky in the dead of winter.

Oikawa had been expecting them to be. Still… his heart leapt a little, up into the base of his throat. 

That voice.

That voice haunted his nightmares, his dreams. That voice seeped and bled into every inch of Oikawa’s body every time he heard it, melting like poison — like sugar — into his veins. 

That voice held everything Oikawa wanted in the shortest of syllables.

He turned around. It wasn’t hard to do, despite the goosebumps crawling up Oikawa’s arms, breathing down the nape of his neck.

It wasn’t hard to do because when he turned the world spun in cold and shadow… but it was the burning, ragged silver at the middle of it all that held Oikawa down and saved him from drowning in hoarfrost and ice, corpse-white fingers and the harshness of sharp piercings and drops of blood on pale lips. 

Oikawa’s gaze fastened on it and really, it was no surprise when the breath stopped dead in his lungs.

Sugawara Koushi never failed to stop the breath dead in Oikawa’s lungs.

It wasn’t his beauty… though he was undeniably stunning in the way that destruction could be breathtaking. His voice was the distant cry of a train at midnight, calling out, lovely and haunting. His eyes were the glow of headlights down an empty interstate and they held the depths of everything humankind feared and wanted in the same moment… and his hair… 

It was much more than that, infinitely more. Words that had no language to communicate them in — a soundless noise on the bitter kiss of winter’s winds, a poem cut ragged and unreadable by rime, the most fleeting of fingertips down the knobs of a cold spine.

Oikawa exhaled, damp and quiet. A thousand hungry, malicious eyes clung to his words as he spoke them… but Oikawa only looked at Suga.

"I wanted to see you."

That mouth — thin and honest, brutally so — twisted and curved with distaste - no, with regret. Oikawa glimpsed it, that remorse. It flickered once, twice, over teeth too sharp to pass as normal and so undeniably foreign on such a face.

Then it was gone.

"You must go." Train wheels on a track, unstoppable. Oikawa was powerless to resist as chilled fingers wrapped around his right bicep and pulled. Suga’s grip was like steel. Oikawa would’ve followed anyway.

They moved — past the things that lurked in the shadows and those that stood in full view and Oikawa avoided his eyes from the figures in the red haze, sneakers scuffing over the cracked marble beneath his feet. A laugh like dead leaves over frozen ground whispered through the air, amongst the crowd of gleaming hair and predatory eyes, fangs and claws and cold, twisted, beautiful faces with large pupils swallowing up any possible trace of brightness.

And down on the ground where Oikawa trained his gaze carefully, like he had been taught, he still couldn’t help but see out of his peripheral — the twisted statues once alive and the oily shine of nightshade bushes under the frost, the sparkle of dark jewels and hidden alcoves behind thick curtains, and somewhere down one of the endless, twisting halls, someone was singing… a plaintive wail that made Oikawa’s nape sting with horror and his blood rush with need.

Oikawa knew the stories. He knew the temptations. 

He knew Suga was the only reason the Unseelie Court hadn’t already eaten him alive, trapped him forever, tricked him into giving away his soul willingly. He was a guest, a _pet_ , of one of the princelings. He couldn’t be touched.

Suga loathed it, Oikawa knew. That word, _pet_ … but Oikawa had been stupid and reckless and unheeding and Suga had warned him and now it was the only way to keep Oikawa safe from the others.

It was the only way Oikawa could get _in_.

They kept going. Suga didn’t speak. He didn’t relinquish the bruising hold on Oikawa. His subjects parted before them, in case Suga unleashed his wrath. Oikawa had seen it happen only once though he knew it hadn’t been the first or the last time.

He saw it even now, at night while he slept — a bloody affair with a red cap who got a little too close before he was ripped apart brutally by Suga’s own elegant, beautiful fingertips.

The same fingers that were still wrapped so lovingly tight around Oikawa’s all too human arm.

Their path was unobstructed…

… until a familiar figure loomed up out of the haze. 

"Move, Suguru. Now."

If a blizzard — subzero and deadly — could be translated to words, it would be the sound of those leaving Suga’s lips. Oikawa’s arm was released, his body half-blocked from view by a tiny instep of the fae prince in front of him.

Still… Daishou was shadow. Where Suga’s hair was bright and burning star-fire, Daishou was the crash of dark waves in a winter storm, the dread of nightfall and the endless cavern down a wet, gaping throat. 

Daishou still saw him, Oikawa… and unlike the others, he wasn’t afraid to edge close, dig deeper, push and push until Suga snapped.

Oikawa’s free hand slipped into his hoodie pocket, fingers skating over the cold kiss of an iron cross he had tucked there… further still to the careful, little bundle of St. John’s wort, the velvet petals sticking to his fingertips. Heknew the stories, the temptations.

He knew how to protect himself when it was necessary.

"Now, now. I’ve never had to suffer a greeting as cold as yours, Koushi. There’s no need to rush. After all, your pet has only just arrived. Let him have the joy and promises we have to offer.”

Oikawa grit his teeth but stayed still. This wasn’t the first — or the last — time he had crossed paths with Daishou Suguru. He was all too familiar with this little game.

A ripple of whispers and murmuring swept the court. They were excited, all of them. Their anticipation — the thirst for blood or ice, broken skin or the sound of bones cracking — prickled over Oikawa in static.

"I said _move_ ," Suga repeated — ice breaking in a frozen stream. 

Fora terrifying moment — bone-chilling and horrible — Oikawa thought he wouldn’t. Thought that this moment would crack and fracture and be reduced to violence and bloodshed and death. The tension was so thick it coated the entire court in silence. So thick Oikawa wanted to gag on it.

But…

But Daishou exhaled first. He smiled then and it was terrible, beautiful in a way that chilled Oikawa’s blood. Still, he made no move forward. He only stepped to the side, mock-bowing to Suga.

Suga’s eyes flashed in the gloom. The insult in the gesture was clear enough, the way Daishou bent lazily at the waist still wearing that smile while his pale hands beckoned Suga and Oikawa forward with a crude flick.

Oikawa felt the new wave of rage that emanated from the set of Suga’s shoulders. It was like snow in the middle of winter — quiet and slow but steadily growing into something that could prove deadly. A slick of black ice on a winding road, or an impenetrable curtain of white where there had once been landmarks.

But Daishou had stepped aside… and Oikawa was here, where he should never be. Too much was at risk. Suga moved forward and Oikawa followed.

The chill of Daishou’s eyes didn’t leave the back of Oikawa’s neck until the doors of the hall slammed shut behind them.

* * *

“Go home.”

Oikawa paused in the dark of the street. Somewhere, the ocean crashed and broke on the shore and the sound carried under Suga’s words. It enforced them.

“Why?”

Oikawa knew the answer. He just didn’t believe it.

Suga sighed. It was the first moment of hesitation — of weakness — he’d shown all night and Oikawa couldn’t help but drink it up. Here was a prince of Faerie, so out of place in the human world, arguing with Oikawa because he loved him.

Because they loved each other.

Oikawa’s life hadn’t been easy. Growing up with the Sight had been anything but easy.

But right now — watching Suga’s hair ruffle in the breeze off of the sea, his face an unearthly assortment of angles and lines and curves — Oikawa wouldn’t take any of it back.

“Because it is dangerous,” Suga answered finally. He wasn’t looking at Oikawa. His eyes gazed out over the bluffs, like he could see the water and all of the secrets it had accumulated over the years. His eyelashes were spiderwebs spun at night. His face was ageless. “You know that.”

“Anything worth something in life takes risk.”

Oikawa stood with his hands shoved into his pockets and he held his breath after he spoke, waiting, looking, searching…

… and there it was. There it always would be.

The gentlest curl of a smile at the corner of Suga’s mouth.

Six months ago that smile had been Oikawa’s complete and utter downfall. The last nail in the coffin. The second it took for a person to not be looking — at the road, at the signs, at the thing that mattered most — before that car swerved and tipped and everything resting on the fulcrum of their life tipped towards something unstoppable.

This was unstoppable. It always had been.

And when Suga finally looked at him, Oikawa knew he wasn’t alone in the fall.

**Author's Note:**

> just a little drabble WIP i had in a folder on my laptop that i forgot about (i've loved faerie legends since i was little so i had to write something like this for OiSuga)
> 
> tumblr: [@oisugasuga](https://oisugasuga.tumblr.com/)  
> twitter: [@oisugasuga](https://twitter.com/oisugasuga)


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